7. Insecurity

7. Insecurity


It’s a scary thing

to not know how to feel

when a thousand opinions

buzz like flies in my ears


it’s not just a person, or two, or a hundred

that makes me a nervous wreck

it’s not their words and their actions

their lack of attention to detail

it’s my misunderstanding of motivations

they must be out to get me

their sole purpose of living is to

hunt me down with a knife

makes sense, right?


I’m wrong, and I know it

but emotions like fear and anxiety

don’t bow down to logic,

they chase it down like wild dogs

devour it like a carcass


I know deep inside that there’s nothing to hide from

that truth will win out at the end of the day

but my heart is so much stronger than my head


isn’t it ironic that we don’t know how to properly love

the ones we love

until we don’t love them anymore?

that we find a way to shed the clinginess

the habits that they hated

the brokenness and biting words

and now that those words don’t matter

we are free to love

but it’s too late because we don’t.


it’s a cycle of disaster

of almosts and too lates

that wrecks my life and keeps

my head spinning in a tornado

of doubt

nails and plywood and hay and glass shards

and hearts and souls and old beginnings and new disasters spinning around

and around

and around

they’ll have to hit the ground



here I go again, a useless ramble

because periodic poetry may soothe my soul

but no one wants to listen

so I’m sorry that you’re reading this.


I read the poetry aloud so maybe you will

applaud me

applause equals love, I think

that’s what I’ve always thought


Anxiety is




it encroaches on everything that I do

hides in my backpack

jumps out of my books

creeps into my every conversation

stalks my dreams

walks in my footsteps

stays in my closet

clings to my clothes.


I can’t have a decent conversation

with a human being

because every human will let me down

I view each one as a mistake-to-be

nothing will last, but I try anyway

and now I’m just tired of trying.

They’ll all hate me in the end.


and so many hate me now

it spun out of control,

the lies that you told and the reputation

you spun for me

a web that I’m trying to untangle

but my need for approval shines through me

apparent desperation

and no one loves that

no one could love me.




every word that I say,

everything that I do

every song that I write

is under scrutiny

they judge and they hate

but most of it takes place in the courtroom

of my mind

where everyone is guilty

and I am in prison

pleading for justice


but the judge is their smiles

that pity the way that my knees bend inwards when I walk

and the voice crack I had in the September recital

and the boy that abandoned me and the way I reacted

and the songs that I wrote to soothe my pain like a bandaid

they pity it all, and they never forgive.




no matter the millions of times that I say it

the ways to re-word it,

the poetry to write

I can’t believe something I KNOW to be true.


I don’t deserve them, but they

don’t deserve me

a paradox, an illusion

I live in self-pity

I get high on feeling cornered

and my elusive vulnerability

addicting, it seems

to push people away and to live

in a realm of anxiety.


you came along and you

pushed all the buttons

I can’t talk about it,

it’s a story for another time

but you said to me “love, it’s alright

everything’s fine”


but you said it to me like I’m a newborn child

who couldn’t know any better

like I don’t know how it is to be tethered

to a bomb that could burst any second.


Heaven can wait for its angel, my dear

but I can’t wait here.


pulling at ropes that dwindle away

and searching for scraps in a wasteland

I’m slipping away into nothingness

and I don’t even know if I want to try

to come back.